


Testing the Waters

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, M/M, Prostate Massage, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: The selfish part of him said it was a shameful and dreadful waste of a beautiful face and body on celibacy, but the largely sensible part said it was no business of his if the Mand'alor wasn’t into men, women, or anything at all for that matter.So he had been a little surprised when his half-joking proposal to test the proverbial waters had been accepted, enthusiastically so.





	Testing the Waters

**Author's Note:**

> While I personally headcanon Jango as being largely ace, friends of mine were hooked on the idea of a younger Jango seeing what's what with an experienced lover, so to speak. So this happened. 
> 
> Also, researching prostate orgasms is a heckuva way to spend an evening.

Walon had known Jango wasn’t into sex. The selfish part of him said it was a shameful and dreadful waste of a beautiful face and body on celibacy, but the largely sensible part said it was no business of his if the Mand'alor wasn’t into men, women, or anything at all for that matter.

So he had been a little surprised when his half-joking proposal to test the proverbial waters had been accepted, enthusiastically so.

“You’re sure bout this?” Walon says quietly, kicking out of his under-armor before climbing back onto the camp bed, bending down to kiss Jango deeply.

“I mean, if you want to back out now, I’m not going to hold it against you. ”

“I’m a virgin, Walon, not a coward,” the young Mand'alor smirks against Walon’s lips. “I know you’re not going to do anything I don’t like if I say so. Speaking of,” he rocks his hips up suggestively against Walon’s, “when exactly are you going to get on with doing something?”

“Pushy alor'ad'ika,” Walon chuckles, and resumes his previous path of kissing his way down Jango’s body.

He’s already very aware from the occasional group shower and medbay encounters that his exalted chieftain has a great figure - broad-shouldered and slender-hipped, muscles beautifully defined under rich bronze skin, and a neat little trail of fine dark hairs leading invitingly down his stomach between well-defined hipbones.

Still, Walon can’t stop the low whistle he lets out when he finally pulls Jango’s skivvies down. If he’d seen the man’s kad in the first flush of his passionate youth, he’s sure that he would have thrown himself on his knees and begged to marry him. It’s not absurdly huge, but shapely and *thick*, and Walon relishes the feeling of its substantial weight and warmth as it fills and hardens in his hand, and the deep groan Jango lets out as he shamelessly thrusts into Walon’s grip.

Ever the leader even in his inexperience, Jango reaches between them and helps to work Walon’s out of his shorts, pressing his erection against the older man’s. Jango wraps their hands around their cocks, pumping them in unison, and it’s Walon’s turn to moan, pleasure rolling in a wave up his spine, eyes flickering shut as he presses his forehead against Jango’s.

Even while he’s rutting into their fists, biting his bottom lip at the feeling of the slick drag of Jango’s cock against the sensitive underside of his own, the rational part of Walon’s mind is still working on logistics. He doesn’t think he can fuck Jango straight away, at least not tonight. Despite what the porn holos show - not that he thinks of himself as excessively well-endowed in the dick department - the slutty virgin definitely cannot take a nine-inch cock after a few minutes of prep and find it enjoyable. The last thing Walon wants to do is make the mand'alor’s first and possibly only partnered sexual experience a lousy one.

He contemplates lubing himself up and just riding that fantastic fat cock till they’re both breathless - until he has a better idea. One that Jango might well find even more enjoyable.

“Ever give yourself prostate rubs?” he asks,

“Nah, I just jerk off whenever I get too tense,” Jango answers matter-of-factly, “never really thought about playing with my ass. I heard some stories, though. I’m game if you are.”

Walon smirks at the hint of challenge in his voice - Jaster’s rational, restrained attitude rubbed off on the lad but even that can’t counter youthful bravado. He reaches into a nearby cubbyhole, feeling for the bottle of lube he keeps for his own erotic explorations. Re-arranging them so that Jango’s knees are spread wide, Walon slicks up an index finger and probes carefully, rubbing circles around the tight puckered rim, before slipping in to the first knuckle.

“Right, how does that feel?”

Jango grunts and shifts a little, adjusting to the odd sensation of something going in where things normally go out.

“Weird, but…not bad,” he mutters, “s'kinda nice.”

“Good. You’re gonna feel that for a while, because I’ll need to take this next bit slowly,” Walon explains, dripping more lube onto his finger and returning to his work.

Many minutes later, Walon’s finally three fingers thick and in deep as the last knuckles. Luckily, Jango isn’t in a hurry, making encouraging noises and rocking back onto Walon’s fingers. However, the slight ache forming in his wrist makes him wish he had something besides only his fingers to do this. Still, he also knows it’s important to feel his way the first time. Every man is built different, inside and out; though despite such variations the general location of one’s prostate is largely the same.

He’s starting to wonder if Jango is just straight-up missing one of the gods’ true gifts to male-kind - until his finger brushes *something* and Jango suddenly arches off the bed with a gasp.

Bullseye.

“What *was* that?” Jango pants, sitting up on his elbows.

“Your new best friend,” Walon replies smugly, twisting his hand just so and brushing that spot again a little more firmly than before, making Jango shudder and his cock twitch, the first pearly drops of precome spurting from the tip.

“Fuck! Easy there, trigger-finger,” the younger man hisses between gritted teeth, unprepared for the sensory overload.

“Aw, what’s the matter, ad'ika, ‘fraid you’re gonna go off too fast?”

Jango tries to snarl a “fuck off”, but the words die in his throat when Walon presses his fingers in as hard as he dares, and the younger man just makes a broken noise, falling back onto the bed and letting out a shaky moan.

“Keep doing that, for the love of Manda, don’t stop,” he groans, and well, who is Walon to disobey a direct command from the mand'alor?

Time seems to slow to a crawl as Walon works his fingers in again and again, deeper and deeper each time, stroking Jango thoroughly from the inside out, each time charting a new course of pleasure by touch alone. He takes the time to touch some other places too, tangling his hand in Jango’s thick, curly hair, relishing the rich texture; holding him in place while he kisses him. He nips at Jango’s full lips, licking along the line of his jaw, nuzzles at the sensitive skin behind his ear. He buries his face against the hollow of his neck, scraping his stubble against the soft, vulnerable skin of Jango’s throat and enjoying the shuddering moan he works out of the younger man for his efforts.

“Mesh'la,” he rumbles, and he damn well means it.

Jango is too far gone to respond to the praise much beyond a whimper, as his feet slip against the mattress as he tries to rock onto Walon’s fingers, to take him deeper, harder; while his own fingers tangle in the sheets or scrabble for purchase in Walon’s too-short hair. Walon doesn’t stop his movements, massaging the sensitive gland firmly but slowly - he knows never to pound at such a delicate thing, at least not the first time - enjoying the desperate gasps and little whines the younger man lets out when he varies the pressure, shifting from a thrusting motion to a stroking one and back again.

Jango nearly sobs when Walon spreads his fingers and undulates them, tickling his prostate with their tips, inconsistent rhythm firing Jango’s already overwhelmed nerves with sparks of pleasure.

“W-Walon, please, touch me, p-please, gedet'ye,” he begs, wild-eyed and flushed, voice gone rough and deep in a way that makes Walon’s own cock twitch and drip.

“I’m sorry, Jang, I can’t touch you,” he gently takes Jango’s hand in his free one, drawing it up from where it was straying a bit too close to his throbbing cock, and lacing their fingers together.

“And I can’t let you touch yourself, otherwise this won’t work,”

Jango can’t even ask *what* it is that won’t work, because suddenly he arches, body bent backwards like an energy-bow, short nails raking Walon’s back as he cries out, shuddering through his orgasm. Walon keeps working his fingers against the spot throughout, until Jango squirms and makes an uncomfortable noise. Walon gently pulls his fingers away from his prostate, but not completely out of the hot press of his body.

They kiss, slow and languorous through the afterglow, Walon murmuring soothing nothings against his lips and neck, stroking his clean hand through the younger man’s mess of black curls, made even messier by their activities and damp with sweat. Jango kisses back until he draws away, blinking confusedly - and glances down between their bodies and sees his achingly hard, still-twitching cock, and no traces of come to be seen.

“I don't…I thought I came?” Jango mumbles, and damn if his confused face isn’t the cutest damn thing Walon’s seen in years.

“You did, and pretty hard by the feel of it.”

“But I didn't…there’s no…”

“That’s the beauty of the deed, Jang'ika,” the dimunitive slips off his tongue so easily, “all the pleasure and none of the mess. Best thing is, you can come again,” he thrusts his fingers back in deep, hitting the spot immediately and making Jango gasp, bucking his hips ups against nothing.

“And again, and again,” he growls into the younger man’s ear, “and again, until you’ve come so much and are so boneless and pleasure-wracked that you can barely move, but you still feel like you have to touch your kad or you’re gonna die.”

When Jango comes down from orgasm number five or six, he turns to Walon, pupils still blown wide and glazed with pleasure, glaring an absolute challenge at him.

“What’s your personal orgasm record amount set at?” he asks, voice gone deliciously deep and rough. 

Walon can’t stop the gleefully predatory grin that creeps across his face. Oh, but this is gonna be a *fun* evening.


End file.
